Hold me from the Fire
by flipping pages
Summary: A short story of Sylar's tale and just how he unwillingly became evil. How forces happen but never on there own. A Peter/Sylar centric fic. Begins after The Eclipse:Part 1


**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes, Gabriel Gray or any of the other characters. I make no such claim or make any money from the writing of this story it is fan fiction and is only for entertainment purpose. It all belongs to Tim Kring and NBC. I own the plot and any original characters.**

**Chapter One:**

**Sylar stares down at success**

* * *

Forces don't fly on their own.

I'd done it again. Killed another human being that had managed to get through my walls. I wouldn't have exactly called it love, for who could make Sylar love, right? From now it would always be Sylar, Gabriel had died a long time ago, the first time he decided that the life he had and the person he was…was what he hated most about life and the only way to resolve his problem was to take what he needed. And he did. And the world had one less life in it.

This _curse_ was the plague within me. Causing me to kill and plot and push every living being away from me, or at least everyone that I didn't have a use for at the moment. I have used everyone for my own benefit in life. Even my mother, or at least the woman I thought was my mother, was just another person that held me back, held me to a life I hated and one she always complained about as well. The uselessness of her existence was clear as day, her squeaky voice penetrating any type of calm I had in my life and I had begged her! Begged her to help me in some way, to convince me that once and for all I could beat this curse, the curse I didn't even know I had at the time.

It was the hunger of ultimate power and I knew that it would forever corrupt me until my ultimate doom.

All I had to do to resolve my problem was to learn how to really kill.

It sounded so funny, even to me, that I of all people needed to learn how to kill and yet it was so simple. From the very beginning the action of killing on my part consisted solely on the need for power, the corruption I felt from my original power, the one that was completely useless unless I killed and took the power I needed. And yet it wasn't like that anymore, for these past months I had met a number of people that had drastically changed my life. From my _father,_ I had learned one valuable lesson; to influence powers; to absorb powers.

_Just like Peter._

Peter Petrelli?! It was absolute nonsense, had I become some avenge-seeking, obsessive empathetic know-it-all obsessed with saving the world? No, that perhaps would always be Peter and only Peter.

But _Peter…_

_Peter Petrelli_…

He was so different, so odd in every single way and he knew something no one else would know. He knew the curse.

I had killed him though, a couple of times or so, I don't even know; I lost track somewhere in there. Even as enemies, Peter was certainly special, the forbidden fruit, the power that I urged for and would have…and I did. I had taken his power without even touching him, with him-who knows where after I had thrown him out that window. Probably stuck it some rain forest for all I know. I had thrown him to freedom in a way and yet it still seemed so odd, how my father or whoever the hell he was anymore told me that I could feel this empathy and that empathy just had to be towards Peter Petrelli.

I had no other use but to lie to myself, tell myself that it wasn't Peter, it was me that had changed and I could do it again, I could feel empathy and change someone's' life. Lucky for Elle, she just happened to be in the same room at the time, right?

I stared down at her silent body.

My head tilted as my eyes trailed up and down her bloody body. I had her power, there was no need for this murder…and that's what it was now, an actual murder, I had actually killed someone. No curse or plot for revenge, she wasn't fighting me, she may have even started to fall for me; despite the fact I killed her father. But I was just another tool wasn't I? I would be the one that was used, I was the one that used people and then killed them in a gruesome way that surely followed them in whatever afterlife that existed. She wouldn't have actually loved me anyway; she was lying to herself in one desperate attempt to find whatever she thought of as happiness; sad that that ended up sleeping with her father's murderer, a serial killer actually. Yet she had killed many too, I know, just by touching her I saw her past and present, a convenient little power from whatever that girl's name was that my darling mother gave to me as a snack. Thanks _Mom_, can I have a glass of milk with that?

So Elle had done it, she had taught me how to be a murderer, not just some puppet to my own power…and suddenly I realized how it worked. How my own power worked. It was its greatest flaw, the consistent murder to gain powers, which just got tiresome at times. It was the actual act of something the power would do that freed me from it. I didn't kill for my power. I killed for _me._

And no matter how sick it sounded, it freed me. I realized then what my real situation was.

I was no longer imprisoned by my parents, or whoever they really were; Elle was gone-her body forever cold on this anonymous beach in paradise. I was lost and yet I had never been so free.

Because it was gone, that hunger, I could take powers by will, by empathy, by just walking by anyone on the street and I was destined to be the most powerful being in the world.

I had never had as much opportunities as I did now.

I could do anything I wanted to do, all I had to do was go out and take it as easily as taking in breaths of air.

I glanced around once more, something was building up inside of me, something extreme that would change my life forever. Suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted the truth. Who my real family was and as soon as I knew for sure, I was going to see Peter.

Peter who was every bit as different from everyone else as much as I was.

I hated him, everything he could have possibly stood for. He would die eventually, whether by my hand or someone else's. The only question was if he would heal in the end.

* * *

Hello everyone! I wrote this some time ago after some great inspiration and I decided I would finally post it for some of your feedback on it. I will be following the book as much as I can, mostly writing Sylar's point of view. Then it will slowly transform into my own and branch off from the episodes.

This will be a slash Peter/Sylar fic because there just isn't enough in the world. I will be taking any advice or suggestions for pairings from you.

So please REVIEW and enjoy the ride!

-Haley


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